


Skeleton Key

by Rockinmuffin



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Friendship/Love, Gen, Gender-neutral Reader, Humor, POV Second Person, Post-Pacifist Ending, Reader-Insert, Up to interpretation whether relationships are platonic or not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-11
Updated: 2015-10-11
Packaged: 2018-04-25 23:17:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4980463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rockinmuffin/pseuds/Rockinmuffin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If anyone's responsible, it's you for trying to keep them out in the first place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Skeleton Key

**Author's Note:**

> Can't stop, won't stop.

You’re sitting at your kitchen table, looking over your finances as you diligently balance your checkbook like the responsible adult you are. Too bad being an adult is utter garbage. You rub at your temple as you look over the bill for your latest window replacement and the resulting draining effect it’s had on your bank account. Your run your fingers through your hair and release a long, drawn-out huff of air.

This can’t go on much longer.

You love Papyrus dearly and you don’t even mind all that much when he invites himself over; though, a heads up would be much appreciated. It’s just that you’re not sure how many more broken windows your budget can take.

Wait. You use some of the free space on your bill to write out the numbers and do the math. The answer is three. You can afford three more broken windows. Any more than that and your account will go into the red.

You really don’t want to confront Papyrus about this but, well… You glance back down. Looking at your checking account fills you with determination.

Yes. Something must be done and you know _exactly_ what you’re going to do.

With a heavy sigh, you pull out your phone and scroll through your contacts. You have to scroll through the whole list three times before you remember Papyrus listed himself in your phone as The Great Papyrus and, thus, you had originally missed it when spending most your time searching through the names listed under P. There’s also someone in your contacts listed as Cool Friend and another called Coolest Friend—both of whom you suspect are also Papyrus—but you choose to ignore them for the time being in favor of making the call before you chicken out.

He answers by the second ring. “My friend! It’s so good to hear from you! We haven’t talked in forever!”

“Papyrus, we just hung out, like, less than twenty-four hours ago.”

“I know! Why did we wait for so long?”

You smile in spite of yourself. “Hey, Papyrus, do you have a minute? I want to talk to you about something important and—”

You’re interrupted by the crashing sound of your windowpane shattering. You wish you could say you’re surprised but you’d just be lying to yourself.

“HUMAN!” Papyrus picks himself off the floor and dusts shards of glass off his cape before immediately darting towards you. He gently clasps your shoulders and pulls you close, looking you up and down frantically as if searching for an injury. “ARE YOU ALRIGHT?! I came as quickly as I could!”

The obvious concern in his voice deflates your mild annoyance at the broken window. “Yeah, I’m okay,” you reassure him. “I just wanted to talk with you.”

“Well, of course! Who wouldn’t want to talk with The Great Papyrus? I have so many engaging topics of conversation to discuss! Such as…” He pauses his speech to release your shoulders and dig out a piece of paper from his inside his clothing. “Trees! And,” he glances down at the paper again, “The economy! Whatever that is!”

“Those are both really great topics, Papyrus, but I had something specific in mind.”

“Like what?” Papyrus leans in closer to you and you’re reminded that he’s still in your personal space.

You bite your lip. It’s hard to find the proper words when he’s staring at you so attentively. You can feel your cheeks heat under the intense scrutiny of his gaze. All you can muster out is a very ineloquent-sounding, “Umm.”

The ridges of his eyes furrow in concern. “Were you intimidated by my great conversation topics? Don’t worry! I’m sure whatever you wanted to talk about is equally interesting!”

Your expression softens at that. You still can’t think of the right words, but Papyrus’ encouragement fills you with determination.

Ultimately, you decide actions speak much louder. Cheeks still warm, you grab Papyrus’ hand, posing it so he’s holding it up with his palm flat and facing the ceiling. He’s watching you with a raised eye ridge as you dig into your pants pocket and pull out a key. 

“Here.” You hold out the key and gently plop it onto his open palm. “This is for you.”

“Thank you, human! This is exactly what I’ve always wanted!” He pauses. “What is it?”

“It’s a key to my house. Now when you want to get in you can use the front door.”

“M-my own key?” Tears gather up in his eye sockets. “You must really trust me to give me something like this.”

He’s looking at you with such a genuinely touched expression, you don’t have the heart to tell him it’s because you’re running out of extra money to pay for new windows. You simply nod your head.

“I… Human,” he clutches the key to his chest, arm trembling, “You won’t regret this!”

“I know,” you reply with an open-mouth smile.

You’re not too sure what to make of the bright red tinge to his cheekbones. Mostly because that implies he has a bloodstream and you are just not in the right state of mind to contemplate the complexities of skeleton monster biology. As far as you’re concerned, you’ll _never_ be in the right state of mind for that.

Then his expression changes completely as he’s struck with an idea. “I’m going to test it right now!”

You watch with a straight face as he enthusiastically jumps out the previously unbroken window that is right next to the one he broke mere minutes ago when he first arrived. You just take a deep breath and remind yourself that you can still afford at least one more repair before you have to worry.

You turn away from the window only to be face-to-face with Sans.

“CHRIST!” You grab at your chest to prevent your heart from leaping out of your ribcage. “We have to get you one of those cat collars with the bell or _something_. ”

“What?” he grins. “No key for me?”

“Not only have you just proven you don’t _need_ one but, even if you did, you’ve proven you’re not the type of person I should trust to give one to in the first place.”

He laughs at your flat, un-amused stare.

“But seriously,” you tell him, “Get out of my house.”

“Aww. And here I thought we were having some skele _fun_.”

“I’m skele _done_ with you right now.”

Sans shrugs, still grinning. “Don’t hate me for being the master of skele _puns_.”

“You better skele _run_ before I kick you in your skele _buns_.”

Your empty threats are interrupted by the sound of your front door handle jingling and the hinges creaking before Papyrus comes dashing back into the kitchen. “IT WORKS!!! Oh, Sans, when did you get here?”

“Not too long ago.” He looks down at his wrist even though he’s clearly not wearing a watch. “About a quarter after skele _one_.”

Papyrus groans even louder than you do.


End file.
